Chapter Text
ঌ Johnny ঌ
"Yo, Reed! I'm back!" His loud voice bounced off the walls of Reed's lab, holding up the holographic tablet in the air, swaying it around like it was a magazine. "Got your precious data right here, safe and…"
When Johnny spectacularly spun on his heels, he expected to see Reed engrossed in his latest project—not his cute new consultant.
"Congratulations." P. Parker—that's what it says on his badge, sounded unimpressed. His glasses accented Parker's sharp attractive features. "You've returned the data. Next time," His eyes—wow, it was like sunlight luminating a chocolate river. "Maybe don't announce it like a supernova."
Ignoring the little flutter in his chest, Johnny sauntered over like he owned the place. Which he practically did. "Hey, I am the Human Torch, after all, Parker." He placed the tablet on the counter on his passing. "It's kinda my thing. You're welcome by the way."
Parker did that adorable little head tilt of his that he does when he's confused. Nose scrunched up and brows pitched inward. "What should I be thankful for?"
Johnny grinned. Flashy. Grandeur. Everything one would expect from the Amazing Human Torch! "My presence." He said it like it was the most obvious thing in the world—which, duh, it is.
Johnny found Parker's personal space to be as inviting as Parker's wild middle part. He easily threw his arm around Reed's consultant like it was made for Johnny's biceps. The familiar scent of Parker's mild shampoo curl potently around his chest. The smell from cheap shampoo but still has that oddly satisfying cleanliness to it. Warm. Calming like the air after a storm.
"I bring style," Johnny noticeably eyed the clothes Parker had under his lab coat. Parker tends to rotate his clothes between a limited selection, often wearing the same thing he wore two days ago. He keeps it clean, Johnny's noticed. "I bring flair." His eyebrows shot up dramatically, waving a hand through the air like the word flair would magically appear.
"And—" That infuriating smirk of his curved at the corner of his lips, claiming more of Parker's personal space. "I bring a little heat." The words rolled off his tongue like honey, a little flame burning brightly at the tip of his pointer finger for extra showbizz points.
Johnny watched Parker's thick eyelashes flutter down, up, down and back up like the hypnotizing swing of magician's watch. It was subtle, but Johnny saw the fleeting hitch, the way Parker rolled his eyes but had that awkward lightness in his tone when he spoke, like he was trying to pretend the closeness didn't bother him.
"Pretty sure," There was an airiness to Parker's voice and an audible swallow. "HR would consider that a work environment hazard."
His lips betrayed him—Johnny smiled, soft unlike how he usually presented himself. The hell? He forced the corners of his mouth into that look at how awesome I am smile that he always has.
"You know, Parker." Johnny squinted his eyes like it could help him identify Parker's deepest, darkest secrets. "You… remind me of someone." For a while now. It's like a star just out of reach, he could feel it, but could never grasp it.
Parker shrugged his shoulders enough to let Johnny's arm slip off. He immediately enforced distance between him and Johnny, and kept his voice steady. But Johnny heard the little crack.
"That's concerning." Parker laughed, a hint of warmth despite the awkwardness taking hold. That strange little heat—something entirely different from Johnny's own heat, settled in his chest like it was returning home after years at sea. Like hearing an old tune he had forgotten. Comforting and precious.
Where have I heard that laugh before?
"Even the laugh." Johnny pressed in the form of casualness, following Parker's body warmth out of habit than reason. "Like you're gonna say something ridiculously nerdy and somehow land yourself in trouble."
Parker doesn't look at Johnny—and Johnny took that like crime against humanity. Johnny love's attention, loves eyes on him. Wants Parker's eyes on him.
Why aren't you looking at me?
"Well, statistically speaking, everyone reminds someone of someone. It's like a whole psychological thing. Very fascinating actually. You should read about it. It might even help with that—" Parker, who decided to busy himself in whatever boring nerd thing Reed had assigned to him, paused like a record player being interrupted when Johnny leaned over his shoulder.
Parker looked at Johnny slowly. "Johnny."
"Yes, Parker?" Johnny said innocently, grinning so much his cheeks started to hurt.
"I like my personal space."
Funny, Johnny also likes Parker's personal space.
Johnny snickered smugly. "That's adorable." He teased, overly confident as always. "But you don't look like you want me to move." His eyes found Parker's lips, the corners fighting back a smile of his own. That little show of assurance slowed the thud thud thudding of Johnny's heart. Just a little. "Why do you think that is?"
Parker inhaled deeply, aiming a half hearted glare his way. "I'm trying to decide if this counts as harassment or a sad cry for attention." A beat then with a small smile, Parker finished. "Or a little of both."
Johnny laughed, real, gentle. He lingered for a second then backed away from Parker's comforting scent and welcoming warmth. "You wound me, Parker." He exaggerated a stagger, smacking his hand over his chest in mock hurt. "I thought we had something special."
Parker rotated where he stood, supporting his lower back against the console. He lazily folded his arms. "I'd describe it as," He paused, pretending to think it over. "An ongoing inconvenience."
Johnny just grinned wider. "Ha! An ongoing inconvenience? I just think that makes me—" The words snagged on something sharp when Johnny saw Parker suddenly go rigid like an alarm only he could hear went off.
Parker angled his head fast like he was trying to figure something out. It was like watching a memory play out before Johnny's eyes.
Spidey does the same thing before—
Johnny didn't get the chance to finish his thought when a magical tear sliced the space between the both of them acting like a barrier to separate. "Parker!" The shout is automatic, squinting through the whipping force of the tear trying to suck in everything within it's range.
Pages scatter, equipment swirl in the air like its own hurricane of hatred.
"Johnny!" The relieved that washed over Johnny is indescribable when he heard Parker.
"Hold on to something!" Its instinctive, the flames streaking behind him, using it to help keep himself from getting pulled in. Johnny powered through—trying to get to Parker.
"Hold on?" Parker shouted over the roar of the chaos. "Wow! Groundbreaking advice there, Captain Obvious!"
"Really!" Johnny is focusing on controlling his flames, edging closer to Parker who was holding onto the consoles for dear life. "Sarcasm—Now? Would it kill you to be a cooperating civilian!"
"Oh, sure!" There's a panic shrill in Parker's voice as his legs lift up a few feet off the ground without consent. There's a low, heart stopping groan— the edge of the console Parker was holding onto was starting to break. "Let me just schedule that in between screaming and actively being pulled in by a magical portal!"
Johnny's eyes widened, whipping his hand out in desperation. His flames followed, wanting to circle Parker in a cacoon that could possibly helped Parker from getting sucked into a comsic portal that appeared out of nowhere for some freaking reason.
His finger almost touched Parker's hands.
Like falling gravel, the chunk completely tore off the console. Parker's anchored—gone, and with it, Parker.
"No!" It tore out of Johnny, no hesitation when he followed after him.
Parker's wide eyes held Johnny's. "Don't—"
Johnny grinned despite everything. "You're not leaving without me, Parker!"
The last thing Johnny saw—Parker's frame shadowed by the pulsating, jagged tear looming behind him. His hands outstretched, fingertips almost touching Johnny's.
And the fear in Parker's caramel eyes. Not for himself, but for Johnny.
Then everything went black.